


Ridden hard, put away wet.

by skinsuit



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Anal Sex, Big boy man, Cis Elias Bouchard, Cis Peter Lukas, Edging, Implied cocaine use, LonelyEyes, M/M, Peter is big in every sense of the word, Peter's POV, Rough Sex, TW: drug use, TW: stoner Elias, bottom Elias, old married bastard old divorced bastards, old married bastards, stoner elias
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:41:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23825491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skinsuit/pseuds/skinsuit
Summary: Elias should know better. Peter is more then happy to teach him
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas
Kudos: 46





	Ridden hard, put away wet.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to my new beta reader Tragicrelief.

They loved each other but didn’t like each other. Or did they like each other but didn’t love each other? Peter could never be sure, but he did enjoy the miserable ache he felt when he was apart from Elias. Even though he wasn’t ever certain he fully enjoyed Elias’s company. It was, in a way, a perfect relationship for them. Peter would be away at sea for months at a time, while Elias worked at the institute. Then, they’d live together for about three months when Peter’s ship was in London. Peter wasn’t sure what the status was: they had been married at one point but had also divorced. Though he was sure he proposed again and Elias accepted again, right? It didn’t matter. What did matter is they shared a flat, read the paper together in the morning, and ate toast with marmalade.  
And it was Elias. Peter had known Jonah in other bodies and at other times. Jonah’s previous host had done nothing for him: James Wright was a dry, odious, miserable man. That body had brought out all of Jonah’s most repugnant qualities. He’d read somewhere that form affects nature, and he thought it true. The last time Jonah had been this attractive in any vessel, well… Peter couldn’t say. No one was as insatiable or as dramatic. So yes. Peter did find Elias attractive, and not just for the man who wore his face.  
They’d always had an open relationship. Elias could never be happy having sex with just one person: he enjoyed a variety of genders and genitalia.  
“There are things I do with them I could never do with you, darling,” Elias would say.  
“Top for one,” Peter would remark.  
Elias always waved it away. Peter didn’t mind, as long as the side pieces didn’t get too cocky, and the affair didn’t last over say five months. Then they would disappear, most of the time into the Lonely. Sometimes Elias would be so sick of them he’d take care of it himself.  
Peter, on the other hand, kept it open for feeding. While he was terrible with almost everything to do with computers, on the phone Elias gave him he had several hook up apps. Easy enough to use, after Elias helped make him a profile. It was very simple to wring every scrap of emotional connection out of sex. He never did foreplay or aftercare. Any attempts to make it kinky were met with a blank, polite refusal. He just jack-hammered away until he came, then left. It helped that he was quite well-endowed. As he was showering to leave, he could always feel the keening, sweet loneliness of the other person. The fact they were just used, roughly and without a second thought. Sometimes, as he was dressing, he’d pat them on the back and tell them that was a good job, making it worse. He’d drink in the person curling tighter into ball after he was done with them, their eyes not meeting his. That utterly scared hollow feeling of being used. If he was lucky, this encounter would cause them to seriously question their own taste in partners, if this was what their sexual and romantic life was destined to be. Peter always made sure it was entirely consensual. Their choice. He blocked them on the hook up app after.

Elias, however, was a different story. He enjoyed being used and left to take care of himself.  
They didn’t share a bed or bedroom in the flat, and Peter usually took the smaller of the two rooms. A small spartan place, under the eaves barely large enough for a bed, was just what he wanted. Elias had been sending covert signals all day, making eyes and brushing against him like a cat in heat. Peter, of course, gleefully ignored them and had a wank thinking about it, knowing Elias was alone and stewing.  
Finally, after a dinner of mounting innuendo and footsie, both of which Peter pretended weren’t happening, Elias snapped.  
“Peter, stop being being coy, and fuck me.”  
“Now? I haven’t had pudding yet.”  
Elias sighed dramatically and put his face in his palm.  
“Fine,” Elias hissed. ”Have pudding, then fuck me.”  
“I really should let it settle after, though,” Peter said with a smirk.  
Elias glared at him. “I’ll be in my bedroom, waiting for you. If you decide it’s worth your time. But remember, I may not feel this way for another two months.” He ponced off to the bedroom.  
Oh! A threat. Peter’s eyes twinkled. He felt himself begin to harden: he really liked it when the little man got cocky. It was so much fun to show him who was really in charge.  
Maybe pudding could wait.  
Elias was waiting, sprawled out naked on his own black silk behemoth of a bed. All things considered, he looked very good for a man his age. A nicely rounded arse. An extremely smug smile. He was watching Peter with those unnerving blue eyes of his, drinking him in. It was almost enough to put Peter off. Almost.  
I’m going to have fun tonight, he thought.  
Peter wondered if he should even get undressed all the way, and decided that yes, he should. His lover usually ended up getting very messy.  
Elias crawled to the edge of the bed and ran his hand over Peter’s chest, hands warm against his skin, carding through the tuft of grey hair. Long, slender fingers. Neatly manicured nails. Peter let them run downwards to his waist. Then, he grabbed Elias’s wrists, tempted to kiss them. But one look at Elias’ smirking face drove any thoughts of tenderness away.  
So instead, he grabbed the man’s hands and pinned Elias to the bed. Wrists held in Peter’s strong grip, knees akimbo, Elias nipped at his face.  
“I assume you are prepped for this,” Peter said nonchalantly. “You’ve been very clear you want it.”

Elias pouted. “Of course, darling. I always do all the work.”  
“Not all,” Peter said and pushed his length slowly into the hot pucker between Elias’s legs. He did this soundlessly, but Elias gave a drawn out moan.  
Peter gave two move testing thrusts, long and slow. When he found the right angle, he slid deep into Elias, skidding along the prostate and making him hiss and moan. Peter decided to be cruel. He sped uphill, shoving his whole cock at a fast, brutal pace. Elias writhed and bucked under his ministrations, hands clawing the air for relief that would not come. Peter kept going. He watched Elias’s face twist, his blue eyes wide and his mouth slack. He slowed down, noting the pre-cum dribbling from the tip of Elias’ cock.  
“You utter bastard!” Elias cursed.  
Peter smiled and pushed in, going slower and deeper. Watching Elias flush and curse him incoherently. He leaned down and kissed him on the tip of his nose. Elias snapped back, all teeth and irritation.  
“Now, now,” Peter chided.  
It was hard to maintain control. Elias felt so good, and every writhe and squirm brought him closer. But he wasn’t going to let him have it. He sped up again, short staccato thrusts, beating up that pucker over and over again. Elias’s face had gone red and slack, all-seeing eyes empty and glazed, wrists limp in Peter’s hands. Faster, deeper. Elias cursed and moaned.  
Peter knew that if Elias was to be satisfied, he’d have to draw blood. So he slowed back down, and once again Elias’ slack brow furrowed. The anger returned to his eyes. Apparently he’d been close that time. Well, well, well…  
He gave a long, deep thrust, driving his massive length all the way into Elias. He went faster and faster, a savage jack-hammering symphony. Elias growled, hissed, writhed. His face changed, twisting and contorting into a look of confusion and stupidity that meant he was about to come. Peter let go of one of Elias’s wrists, letting him rub himself off and shoot off messy, gooey white cascades of semen. Peter felt the man’s body contract around him. So close. He felt the warm shooting pleasure surge through him, but he held on, thrusting deeply until he finally wrung every ounce of his own orgasm in Elias’s ass.  
Peter slumped over him, his face buried in the other man’s chest. He could feel the very human beat of his heart, his soft warm skin. Smell the sweat and cum.  
He lingered on the heartbeat. There was something odd about it.  
No, this was too much. He stood up.  
“You need to lay off the cocaine and see a cardiologist, Elias,” he said as he withdrew. A thin line of cum and blood trailed from the tip of his penis. He wiped it on the sheet and walked off to the shower.  
When he was finished, Peter found Elias sprawled out in a red silk robe, smoking a bowl and talking very snidely to a doctor on his mobile.  
Ah, well. Now to get dessert before him. Peter knew for a fact the chef had made a pavlova. He wanted to get his share first.

**Author's Note:**

> How do you picture Elias? I kinda see him as low rent version of Vetinari....


End file.
